


Anniversary in Training

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [79]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-06
Updated: 2006-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:04:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1843639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years down the tracks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary in Training

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex and Ula
> 
> Many thanks to Janet for inspiring me to include 'Gandalf Visits Bilbo' by The Brothers Hildebrandt. The lads appreciate it, especially Ian.

Love. Honor. Cherish. 

The path to those vows had begun with Ian and Quinn's first meeting on the journey to Windover three years ago. Now it was time to celebrate that moment again.

Two men on a train, rushing towards a future always in motion. Their stops along the way -- Ian's assistant professorship at Luke, their Williamsburg vows, their marriage in Massachusetts -- gave them a sense of promise fulfilled.

For months, they'd thought that first meeting was the only anniversary they'd ever be able to celebrate. Then Quinn had proposed twice to Ian -- once in the warmth of their curtained bed in Williamsburg, when he'd first asked Ian to wear his ring, and again in Landowe, where he'd dropped to bended knee before him.

And yet their symposium anniversary filled them with as much joy as the other, more official, signposts of their love. Remembering their first tentative approaches toward intimacy always made Ian smile; he prized the group photo taken at the conference, with Quinn's hand on his shoulder and a shy expression of delight on both their faces. And he had discovered that Quinn had saved the copy of the colloquium schedule that he'd shown Ian on the train, with his talk on Gandalf's sacrifice starred. Quinn had singled him out before they'd even met.

Monasticism had yielded to magnetism in a Windover dorm, the ache of years alone soothed by fumbling hands, the gift they'd received apparent from the start, and growing by the day.

And on this anniversary, three years further down the tracks, both of them knew just how to celebrate. After all this time, it was easy to choose perfect gifts, harder to keep them under wraps until the big day.

The anniversary fell on a Friday this year, letting them make a proper date of it. All day at school, their anticipation steadily built, Ian practically vibrating at his desk, Quinn looking over at him with promise in his eyes.

Six o'clock at last. Ian locked the door of their office with a satisfying click, and they were off for the weekend. Glad he was driving today, Ian started to whistle as he strode by Quinn's side. He jangled his keys as they walked, fingertips warm on the little shamrock.

When they got into the Audi, Ian put Quinn's hand on his thigh, a cocky set to his jaw. Quinn gave him a lingering squeeze, and reluctantly took his hand away when Ian released the parking brake. He knew he was in for a treat when Ian headed downtown, rather than home.

"Guess we're not having leftovers for dinner tonight, eh?" Quinn chuckled.

"Nope. Something a bit fresher for our anniversary." Ian grinned at his curious husband.

Quinn started paying attention to cross streets, searching for a clue to their destination. "Hmm." He stared at all the student hangouts, hoping his mischievous mate wouldn't pull up at one of them. Ah, The Gardens was a few blocks away; a romantic dinner there had become possible with their marriage. He smiled, but didn't say anything, not wanting to spoil Ian's surprise if he was right.

"Just a bit longer, love." Ian pressed Quinn's hand. 

They drove farther down Twileque Avenue, until Quinn saw the banks and offices of the central business district. "Mmm. The Gardens," he said, a moment before the green awning of the restaurant came into view. "The perfect choice." This would be their first dinner there, though they'd come often for working lunches and even once with Quinn's parents.

Ian grinned in delight. "Thought you might like the lilacs."

"You know me so well, lad."

Ian's ginger hair looked even more delectable when he blushed a bit. "We've got reservations. I asked for the table by the greenhouse." And there was nary a briefcase in the Audi. He beamed when Quinn used his cell phone to cancel his own reservations at Bespina's. 

They had to park on a side street two blocks away, the Friday night dinner crowd gobbling all the best spots. But it was a lovely evening for walking, and Ian impetuously took Quinn's hand. It was the first time they'd walked hand in hand on home turf. Quinn's fingers tensed slightly, then relaxed into Ian's warmth. They shared a look of indescribable satisfaction at the rightness of it.

The Gardens changed with the seasons, now displaying tulips in the planters atop the booth dividers, while the greenhouse held a profusion of hyacinths, lilacs, and daffodils.

The men were seated at their favorite table, out of sight of the other diners. Instead, they had an indoor garden right across from them, and took a moment to admire the magnificent colors, as much a part of their meal as the wine. 

They opted to split an appetizer of vegetable turnovers in mango sauce, with braised sole for their main course. That decided, they relaxed facing each other, enjoying their date in a place where they used to pretend to simple friendship.

Ian reached for Quinn's hand again. "Three years, Quinn! I can't believe it."

Quinn squeezed Ian's fingers. "Neither can I, lad. Feels like I've known you forever."

Ian nodded. "And sometimes it feels like months."

Quinn chuckled. "Well, it's only been seven months since we married."

Ian touched Quinn's wedding band reverently, living in the moment he'd put it on his husband's finger. "We have a lot to celebrate this year."

"And we're off to a good start," said Quinn, winking at Ian as he thought of the delights awaiting them at home.

Their appetizers came, along with hot ciabatta bread, and their focus turned to the pleasures of the table. Ian drizzled the bread with olive oil and handed a piece to Quinn. It went well with their turnovers and Pinot Grigio. Journal deadlines faded away as they indulged themselves in continental cuisine.

"I dreamt about our train ride again last night," Quinn said.

"You're lucky you can remember. As soon as I wake up, wherever I am seems to vanish."

"I'm glad these dreams don't fade." Quinn smiled into Ian's eyes. "Right before I woke up, you grinned up at me for the first time."

"You're a long drink of water, Quinn. And to have you sit beside me!"

"We clicked right from the start, lad." Quinn stroked Ian's ring, in what had become a favorite caress.

"I've never felt anything like it," Ian said, smiling down at Quinn's hand on top of his own.

They had time to leisurely finish their turnovers before their entrees came. Quinn was glad to see roasted sweet potatoes on the side, a dish for which The Gardens was justly famous. Ian spooned over some of his own, knowing it was one of his husband's favorites. Quinn's crinkles deepened, deepening Ian's enjoyment of the meal.

Quinn studied the dessert menu on the blackboard while they ate. "They have that banana rum cake you like, Ian."

Ian finished his bite of fish. "Mmm. That's what I'm getting then. Wanna share?"

"Love to."

Ian noted that Quinn said this without any hesitation whatsoever, and was amazed at the distance they'd travelled. He remembered all too well the days when Quinn would keep his fork at a polite distance in public, careful not to give the right impression.

They'd picked a delicious anniversary cake this year, moist and creamy. Quinn lifted a forkful to Ian's lips, watching Ian's eyes widen in surprised pleasure even before he tasted the first bite. Ian returned the favor, thinking of their wedding cake.

"Glad we got dessert," Ian said with a wink.

Quinn laughed. "Best part of the meal."

Ian paid the check, since his plans had trumped Bespina's, and they walked to the Audi, with Quinn reaching for Ian's hand this time. The undisguised happiness on Quinn's face was the highlight of their date for Ian.

Quinn was thankful for Ian's expert driving on the way back. He was musing over the joys to come, and impatiently watched for the green light over their garage.

Finally home, their clothes came off before they reached the bedroom. They turned down the bed quickly, not wanting to pay for dry cleaning their comforter again, as they'd had to do after they got a little too enthusiastic last month.

Quinn grabbed Ian and lowered him to the sheet, obeying his silent plea to get on top of him. They couldn't stop kissing, their hands eager to please. Ian's hips were already bucking under Quinn's powerful thrusts, driving Quinn wild. Ian recognized the groan that said Quinn was but a touch away, and reached down to take him in hand, brushing himself as he did so. That was it for both of them as they flooded each other and the sheet.

Quinn started to roll off Ian, but was held fast by his husband's sweaty hands and thighs. "Don't. Need to feel you."

The two fell asleep in that position, despite the dampness they'd made. They slept through the night, waking side by side after changing position a few times.

Quinn blinked, grinning sheepishly at Ian. "I completely forgot to give you your gift."

"Me too," said Ian, lazily brushing off Quinn's encrusted stomach. "But you gave me a better one."

Wrinkling noses and itchy skin told them they needed a shower, and they spent the next little while caressing more than cleaning each other. Drying off, they dressed in t-shirts and boxers, eager to get to their presents. Breakfast could wait. 

Quinn went to his office and got a gift-wrapped rectangular package which he gave to Ian on the bed. Tearing open the left corner, Ian crowed, already recognizing the print that Quinn had chosen for him. It was 'Gandalf Visits Bilbo' by The Brothers Hildebrandt. He put the picture down, impatient to thank his husband properly. Only after thoroughly kissing a smile onto Quinn's face did Ian return to his prize, which was numbered and signed by Greg Hildebrandt.

"Thank you! I've loved this painting for years." Ian touched the wooden frame appreciatively.

"So have I. Saw a postcard of it in your drawer when I was putting our Halloween manip there."

Both of them gazed at the beloved scene. Bilbo sat smoking his pipe in front of Bag End as Gandalf walked up to the gate. The hobbit hole was clearly the best place to be on Middle Earth, better than the halls of kings or the flets of Elves. The riot of flowers and greenery around it rivalled the greenhouse in all its glory. But it didn't surpass their little home.

"Where would you like it, Ian?" Quinn sat on the bed beside him.

"How 'bout the living room over the mantel?"

Quinn smiled; Ian might as well have said, "Where we both can enjoy it." He kissed Ian's forehead, which still smelled faintly of soap.

"Hang on a sec." It was Ian's turn to forage for Quinn's present. He returned from the second bedroom with a sleek brown guitar case. "Looked like you were made to play it in Hotham."

"Made to play it for you, lad. Thanks," Quinn said, voice low as he opened the case to find a Brownsville acoustic guitar gleaming in the morning light. He started to strum it absently, sharing a smile with Ian all the while. Nights in White Satin began to drift through the room, Quinn whispering the words to his rapt husband. The soaring chorus made Quinn unconsciously increase his volume, until his "And I love you,/Yes, I love you" refrain echoed throughout their little house.

The perfect coda to their anniversary celebration.


End file.
